Jol had taken the opportunity to check Ospar over, to make sure he didn’t require medical intervention. The back of the Dramok’s neck was bruised, but the skin unbroken. Jol’s inspection of the nude sleeper had found no sign of bleeding anywhere, nor bruises beyond where he’d bitten him.
Staring at Ospar’s naked body, Jol had a dim memory of Ospar yelling at him to fuck him. Of his legs parting to allow the Nobek access. And beyond that, tight warmth. Ancestors, that sweet, yielding heat—how could he forget that?
When his cocks throbbed in warning, Jol covered Ospar with his sheets again, and fairly ran out the door.
Even though the Dramok apparently rested easy in the aftermath of their encounter, shame was Jol’s loudest companion, more present than the residents of the aquariums. Shame and confusion. How could Ospar sleep after what had happened?
He said it was his fault. That I wasn’t to blame.
The Nobek hadn’t believed him for a second. True, the director had instigated the argument. He’d gone to great lengths to antagonize Jol, then followed that up by doing the worst possible thing to an irate Nobek: running like prey. He had known how that would end.
But Ospar was a self-important ass. He couldn’t have meant it when he excused Jol for what had happened.
After discovering that Ospar slept, Jol had visited the lavatory and cleaned the Dramok’s dinner from his face, hair, and uniform top. Returning to the common room, he’d cleaned up the mess of the dropped tray of food too. He needed something to do while he thought about all that had happened.
The hours passed. As he watched the peaceful fish, Jol turned the matter over in his mind. In the end, he assumed that Ospar was sadistically making him sweat out the conclusion to the whole sorry situation. The Nobek was certain he’d be fired without ceremony in the morning. He resigned himself to that and prepared his explanation to his father.
No excuses. Talu would not be interested in such. He’d only listen to the facts, the reason Jol had dishonored him.
The long hours readying himself for the inevitable were over. Except Ospar wasn’t speaking the words. Get out. Your work as security for Itga and me is over. Instead, the irritating creature looked at Jol with cheeriness simmering beneath a politer mien. The Dramok behaved as if nothing untoward had happened between them. His question had been the height of good breeding, even hinting at concern. Did you sleep?
Jol rose, deciding he should be on his feet to greet whatever came. “I stood guard.”
The instant the words were out of his mouth, Jol realized how ridiculous they were. He’d become the immediate threat to Ospar’s safety. He had run him down and fucked him. His actions had been the opposite of someone assigned to protect his employer.
If Ospar considered any of that, he gave no sign. Instead, his voice was friendly. “Maybe you can grab a nap later. I have stim tabs if you need them. I’m going to order breakfast. Do you want anything?”
Perplexed, Jol stared at him, unable to find an answer to the innocent question. The word ‘breakfast’ made no sense to him. He knew the term, knew what it meant, but it remained as nonsensical as Adraf speech.
When he didn’t respond, Ospar flushed. His expression turned guilty. “I assume you didn’t eat last night, so of course you’ll require breakfast. I’ll com for a bunch of stuff and you can have whatever entices you.” He left abruptly, as if the subject had been settled to their mutual satisfaction.
Jol remained in place for a few seconds, puzzling out the state of affairs. In the end, he decided Ospar had chosen to fire him before an audience—most likely in front of Talu. What better way to repay his bodyguard for the humiliation of the night before?
Jol drew a deep breath. Protecting Ospar had been a shit assignment from the start. He’d be glad to be done with it, no matter how it ended. Even Talu’s coming censure would be a cakewalk compared to guarding Ospar.
Yet the director showed no sign of a public demonstration when they got to Itga an hour later. Ospar didn’t march Jol to his father and denounce him. He also said nothing to his uncles when they surprised him on the executive floor of headquarters. Except for a few worried and perplexed glances at Jol, he was determinedly cheerful to everyone. He made a few teasing comments to Tebrok and Sallid about them coming in on time to do a decent day’s work for a change, making everyone but Jol laugh.
Sallid and Tebrok asked Jol how his night guarding Ospar had gone. The Nobek answered, “We’re both still alive.”
Ospar laughed at that with the rest. That was all. No accusations. No recriminations.
The director wished his uncles a good morning and proceeded to his office. Jol followed him. The surrealism of the circumstances left him feeling dizzy.
They entered Ospar’s workspace after the director offered warm greetings to the polite Emano. As they moved into the inner office, the Dramok eyed the desk and chair that had been installed for Jol’s use. “That was a waste of effort, wasn’t it?” He gazed at the Nobek expectantly.
Here it comes. I suppose I should be grateful that he waited until he was secured at headquarters. Maybe he’s figured out he needs a bodyguard, even if he’s getting rid of me. It’s decent of him to finish this privately.
Jol stood at attention before the director and waited to be released.
Ospar’s smile wavered. It crumbled into the grumpier expression he usually gave Jol. “I’m not going to beg you to stay, if that’s what you’re expecting. I think we can agree this situation isn’t doing us any favors.”
Jol blinked. The situation kept getting stranger. “Of course I agree. That’s why you’re firing me.”
Ospar stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. The peevish note that grated on Jol’s nerves the worst seeped into his voice. “I’m not firing you. You’re quitting. Right?”
Jol glared. Surely the man wasn’t calling him a deserter. “I’m not quitting. I’ve never quit anything in my life.” Well, that wasn’t true, but the one occasion had been special circumstances. He hadn’t been expected to continue on after losing what he had.
Ospar looked disbelieving. “But after what you did to me—”
What he’d done? “I reacted as any Nobek would to being attacked by another who then turned and ran. Last night was your fault and you know it. You admitted as much yourself.”
“Wedi sauce thrown in your face is hardly an attack,” the Dramok snorted, acting put out.
“You were insulting and confrontational. You went out of your way to provoke a reaction. When you got that reaction, you ran like the bully you are.”
“I panicked! I hadn’t intended to throw anything at you. It just happened. And listen to who’s calling who confrontational! I remember a lot of hurtful comments about me being indulged—”
“You are. Insensitive, hateful—”
Ospar sneered, “Did I hurt your feelings, Nobek? Aw, poor little guy—”
“Did I hurt your ass, boy? Seemed rather tight—”
“You enjoyed it well enough, judging from how fast you finished with—”
“–like that of a man who doesn’t get to fuck because no one wants—”
“I bet you’d know a thing or two about not being wanted—”
They yelled back and forth, their faces blistering red with fury as they shouted over each other’s arguments. Jol had rarely ached to punch any man so hard in his life. He wished Ospar would attack him and run again, so he’d have justification to kill the mouthy Dramok this time.
Finally, he could take no more. “Fire me!” Jol screamed, spittle flying at Ospar’s livid features.
Ospar dodged the spray and shrieked, “Is that what you want? Then no! You can fucking quit!”
“I refuse. You’ll have to drag me out of here yourself! Good luck with that, weak brat.”
“Excuse me?”
Ospar grabbed the hover chair that had been brought in for Jol’s use. He shoved it at the Nobek. “Sit your ass in your chair until you rot then.”<
br />
“No problem.” Jol dropped into it and crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at the other man.
“And while you’re sitting there—”
“Excuse me!”
“—and spending your days watching me enjoying my life while you—”
“Director Ospar!”
Jol had been aware of Emano trying to break into their argument for several seconds by then. He enjoyed mean delight in seeing Ospar jump, unaware in his anger that his aide stood in the doorway. Emano had not dared to walk in with the pair raging at each other, their noses practically bumping as they had it out.
Ospar stepped back. He and Jol turned towards the Imdiko. As Jol noted the aide’s irritated demeanor, much like a parent with a pair of misbehaving boys, he realized that was what he and Ospar appeared to be—temperamental children having a fight on a playground. Embarrassment sent a wave of heat through Jol’s face. He stood and bowed belatedly to the Imdiko.
Emano didn’t mask his immense disapproval, not even from his employer. “That display was beneath the two of you. Really? The leader of an industry giant? A trained and experienced Nobek security officer? I’ve never seen such a ridiculous demonstration. If you’re not ashamed of yourselves, my opinion of you both falls to less than zero.”
Ospar’s shoulders hunched. It took all of Jol’s pride not to do the same thing. He had a hard time meeting the Imdiko’s scornful gaze when it moved to him.
After a moment, Emano’s reproachful expression returned to its usual professional demeanor. “I see you are thinking better of your behavior. That’s good. Finish composing yourselves, please. Ospar’s uncles are expecting you.”
“Expecting us?” Ospar’s usually assured tone sounded uncertain.
“You’re due at a scheduled meeting with your uncles in their office in two minutes.”
“Oh. That’s why they’re in early. I guess I forgot. Thank you, Imdiko.” Ospar gave Emano a weak grimace, far from his typical cheerful smile.
Looking serene, as if he’d broken into nothing untoward in the slightest, Emano bowed and left the room. The door closed behind him, the consummate professional.
Ospar drew himself up, straightened his shirt, and finger-combed his hair from his face. He moved to his desk, shooting Jol a glare as he stomped past.
Not to be outdone, Jol glowered in return. Their issues had not been resolved, except conceding they’d acted like a pair of idiots. The Nobek hated Ospar for having drawn him into yet another emotional confrontation—though he was grateful Emano hadn’t walked into a fuck scene like the one from the night before.
Ospar retrieved a few computer storage drives from his desk and hurried past Jol. “Asshole,” he muttered.
Jol followed him out of the office, meeting Emano’s gaze for an instant and glancing away. “Talking to yourself again?” he shot at the back of Ospar’s head.
“It’s the only intelligent conversation to be had, considering present company.”
The Nobek growled because he had no retort ready. Not when Emano was within hearing range. Jol did not want to invite the Imdiko’s withering judgment again.
* * * *
As the owners and director of Itga Mining met in Tebrok and Sallid’s office, Jol had to admit that Ospar in executive mode was an impressive man. Though the Nobek kept in the background, he watched his charge with growing respect—at least where business was concerned.
Ospar had called up numerous floating vids, which hovered above the middle of the open space between the models of Itga’s assets. The displays showed latest research and numbers that Jol was positive he’d never be able to figure out in a million years. Business didn’t interest him, and he was certain what Ospar and his uncles discussed would be over his head. Yet Ospar’s grasp on matters was so sure and his explanations so clear that Jol found himself not just understanding the data, but engaged with it.
Ospar had brought up a table and graphs, demonstrating that Itga was too far into the process of bidding on the Eruz mountain range to let it go. “We’ve spent an entire year’s income on the contract bid, what with licenses, studies, and procuring the equipment needed. The outlay for the safety measures that it would take to mine the Eruz Mountains has taken a bite out of company assets as well.”
Tebrok brushed aside the staggering dollar amounts. “Yes, we’ve laid out quite a lot of expenses, but—”
“Let’s not forget the horrific impact on our workers should we drop the Eruz contract, Uncle.”
Ever-concerned Sallid was quick to ask, “What impact?”
“The Woto mines are on the brink of being played out. Those workers need this deal the most or they face layoffs. You’re aware most of them are at least partially clanned, so the impact to family units should be taken into account. Winning Eruz guarantees they will work until retirement, guarantees their clans’ financial stability.”
Ospar brought a vid forward to highlight the numbers involved. Jol’s eyes widened to see how many were to be impacted. He’d never imagined that top-of-the-line automation had left room for so many actual people to work in mining.
Ospar continued. “Some of these personnel might be hired by Pladon Industries, should it win Eruz. However, Urt is planning on more mechanization than we would use. He’s willing to waste the benefits that our less machine-oriented approach ensures, in hopes of a quicker payoff.”
“I’ve seen the reports of his mines,” Tebrok muttered. “He’ll destroy almost the same amount as he’ll bring to market.”
“He’s shown himself to be more about instant gratification than long-term benefits,” Ospar agreed. He kept on, building his case. “The economy surrounding the Eruz region will be negatively influenced by his company’s practices. Here are the projected numbers of Itga versus Pladon by year.”
They all, Jol included, gaped at how considerably Itga stood to benefit the Eruz region in comparison to Pladon. Jol almost forgot himself enough to whistle. Itga ran its business with people in mind as much as profit.
Sallid offered his nephew a wry smile. “I don’t have to ask if you’re certain about this. You never leave a stone unturned in these matters.”
“Thank you, my uncle. I had five different objective experts look at the plans, and they are in agreement on this. You’ll note that even with Urt’s quick start and fast moneymaking scheme, Year One verifies Pladon’s influence on the local economy will be ten percent below Itga’s. It will wane faster over the next twenty years, when it will no longer have any discernible effect on the residents’ livelihoods.”
Tebrok cocked his head. “Why twenty years for a range that size?”
Ospar’s smirk was the one Jol found so irritating when it was aimed at him. “Because of the manner in which Pladon operates. Urt’s company will have gutted the Eruz mountains within twenty-five years, destroying half its potential profits and doing little to benefit the people of the region. Whereas Itga will still be mining Eruz for another seventy-five to a hundred years, with steady economic growth maintained up to the very end.”
Sallid beamed at him. “And ensuring prosperity for that territory. A consideration always high on your priorities.”
Ospar put forth a final appeal. “It’s good for us too. The Empire’s well-being is our well-being. Please hear me on this. Urt does not put Kalquor or its people first. You can see giving up on this contract will go beyond harming Itga’s bottom line.”
Jol wanted to scowl and refrained from doing so. Could it be that Ospar was that devoted to the people of Kalquor? He preferred to believe the Dramok fought Urt and Pladon out of stupid pride. Altruistic drive didn’t fit into the box the director belonged in.
After all the trouble they’d had with each other, he did not wish to have any reason to respect Ospar.
Meanwhile, the owners were looking over the reports and casting significant glances at each other. Sallid sighed at a few minutes of quiet discussion with Tebrok.
“Fine. We won’t drop ou
r bid for Eruz. But you will be careful.”
Tebrok weighed in. “Yes. Listen to Nobek Jol or whomever Talu assigns to you. Don’t make Security’s job harder than it has to be when it comes to keeping you safe.”
Jol felt a stab of delight at the irritation that shadowed Ospar’s face. At the same time, his gut filled with dread to know he was still stuck with the shit assignment.
Chapter 7
After the meeting, Jol followed Ospar back to the director’s office. The Nobek observed that Emano was nowhere to be seen. That offered a sense of relief, considering the man had witnessed behavior unacceptable for a grown member of Jol’s breed.
They passed the Imdiko’s desk and entered Ospar’s office. As soon as they were inside the doorway, the Dramok turned to his bodyguard, his face knotted with tension. “I suppose you want to investigate my private mail too?”
Jol was already eyeing the small wrapped box on Ospar’s desk. He gave his employer a curt nod and approached the pressed-paper package. It was decorated with eye-catching colors that rendered it more a piece of art than mail.
He didn’t pick it up, instead reading the label while standing over the desk. “You are familiar with this Nikdiv Marketing Corporation?”
Ospar drew closer, his expression bored. “Yes, though we’ve never worked with them. Nikdiv is among many public relations firms who regularly send us proposals and promotional items in hopes of gaining our business.”
“You’ve received similar parcels from them before?”
“Many such boxes have been delivered to all the executives here since we’ve placed our bid for Eruz. Judging from the shape and size of the box, I’d guess it’s a vid cube programmed with pretty pictures, logos, and breathless testimonials from satisfied customers.” Ospar shrugged and moved around his desk, no doubt readying to sit down and do some work.
Clan and Conscience Page 7
